The heavy portal like door swung open and the three armed mechanic from the space station sauntered in.
“It took you long enough to wake,” he complained, and Megan watched in fascination as his five mouths moved at different speeds. It made her wonder what she would have heard if she didn’t wear a translator. She hoped the damned alien was wearing a translator of his own, because she didn’t want to waste the insults her mind prepared otherwise.
“Well, excuse me, you three armed freak, for succumbing to your kidnapping drug so thoroughly. Next time, give me a bit of warning before you decide to abduct me and I’ll try to build a resistance to it first.” She spoke without thinking, a never ending fault with her no matter the situation.
“Where we’re taking you, there won’t be a second chance.” The creature chuckled, pleased with his threat and answering the question that yes, he could understand her. Perfect, time to put her most effective weapon to use- her acerbic tongue and attitude.
Megan sighed. “You know. I really wish you bad guys would come up with something original. Do you know how many times that phrase has been done in the movies? Seriously. Would it kill you to come up with something new? And maybe take a shower? I mean seriously, you’ve definitely got something funky going on.”
“You talk too much,” said the alien with a frown, three of his five mouths pulling down in a moue of displeasure.
“So everybody tells me. What are you going to do about it?”
He slapped her in the face which really hurt, but also fired up Megan’s temper. “Oh, big bad alien. Hit a defenseless woman why don’t you? Coward. What’s wrong? Afraid if I wasn’t tied up I’d hurt you?”
The mechanic, turned kidnapper, snarled. “Filthy mouthed whore.”
“Not for you I won’t be. I like my men with some balls. I think you left yours at home. Or did someone already neuter them for you?” Megan’s smile goaded him as much as her provoking words.
That time, when he punched her, she tasted blood, but he still didn’t give in to her taunts and untie her. A pity. She’d hoped to shame him into doing so.
Worse, the sight of her blood excited him, and he began to rain blows on her body, leaving no part of her undamaged.
“Take off my arm and beat me with it, will you? Ha. Looks like I get the last laugh. I’ve got your woman now, Trenkaluan. Not such a tough mercenary after all. And once I’m done showing this whore her place, I’m going to let her service me. How do you like that, you smug bastard?”
“You’re nuts,” she muttered. “Tren doesn’t care for me.”
“Liar,” spat the alien, his mouths contorting out of sequence. “He’s never been seen with a woman outside of a brothel before. You must mean something, and I am going to ruin you for him. Sully you and then throw it in his face. And he won’t be able to do a thing about it.”
“That’s what you think,” growled a welcome, if surprising voice.
Chapter Eleven
Tren cursed the time it took to get his ship back online and discard the repair bubble. He used those wasted moments to imagine how he’d torture the three armed bastard who’d dared move so brazenly against him.
Of course, he had only his distraction for one female to blame for getting caught off guard. Then again, if the cowards had come for him, he’d have taken care of the problem, distraction or not, but they’d instead dared to go after Megan. Just the thought of her in someone else’s grasp made his anger burn hotter than a star gone super nova.
Locating them proved easy once he got on his way. Megan’s translator also contained a tracking device, an expensive upgrade he’d acquired for a project he’d ended up passing on a while back. His ship followed the blip of her signal while he armed himself and prepared to unleash a miniature war.
Nobody frukxed with him and lived to tell the tale.
When he got within radar range, he engaged the cloaking device. Another expensive toy, but wealth stopped being a barrier a long time ago. His larger craft shadowed the vessel holding Megan. He made his way to the lowest deck, not the section where the dead-aliens-walking entered, but another smaller section especially built for space embarkations. Fingers flying on the console, he engaged his boarding mechanism which lowered a metal tube. It connected to the other vessel’s surface with only the slightest thud.
Tren braced his feet over the hatch as it hissed open and dropped through as soon as it was clear. He hit the surface of the other vessel and went to work with a laser cutting through the metal. As soon as the piece dropped, providing him entry, he followed, his knives pulled. In space, only the insane used guns which could punch holes into vital areas. Usually, he was that crazy person, but he needed to ensure Megan’s safety before he let loose.
The storage room he entered while loaded with stolen goods did not contain anything for him to kill. A shame.
A scan of the ship by his own computer showed only six life forms on board-Megan plus five idiots. A paltry amount. The first two he found in the bridge, oblivious to the vessel anchored above them. They only managed to turn halfway to greet him when he slit their throats before they could raise an alarm. Wiping his blades on their carcasses, he moved quickly to search room by room. The crewman exiting from a stateroom managed a squeal before Tren thrust his dagger into him and dragged it up, eviscerating him.
Cold rage drove him as he methodically hunted the remaining two. He located the fourth miscreant standing outside an open doorway, watching something eagerly. Tren could hear a voice muttering and the fleshy smacks of someone getting beaten. Tren ran at the inattentive guard and thrust both daggers into its back, using them to lift and move the gurgling thug out of his way.
Tren stood framed in the doorway, and his fury coalesced from angry red, to an icy white. The three armed mechanic, who should have known better than to frukx with him, slugged Megan, who hung bruised and bloody from a set of manacles.
He caught the soon-to-be-dead alien midsentence. “…like that, you smug bastard?”
“You’re nuts,” she muttered. “Tren doesn’t care for me.” Her words struck him like a blow.
“Liar,” spat the alien. “He’s never been seen with a woman outside of a brothel before. You must mean something, and I am going to ruin you for him. Sully you and then throw it in his face. And he won’t be able to do a thing about it.”
“That’s what you think,” Tren growled, more angry than he recalled ever being. He didn’t need his knives for this, so he sheathed them as he flowed into the room, vengeance personified.
The mechanic snarled as he drew a knife of his own and lunged at him. Tren didn’t move. He caught the flailing wrist, and the second which came out of nowhere with another blade. He yanked and twisted the appendages as the third hand came thrusting at him-and missed. The crack and snap as bone broke preceded the wailing scream of the alien. But Tren wasn’t done. He grabbed the third arm and snapped it, too.
The idiot, who’d thought to best him, collapsed screaming. The noise irritated Tren, so he kicked it in the head, knocking it unconscious.
Then he turned to face his human.
Megan, even with all her injuries retained enough wits to gape at him. “You actually came for me?”
He shrugged. “Did I mention I hate pirates?”
She laughed, a sound tinged with pained hysteria. “You’re insane.”
“Probably. But I wouldn’t talk if I were you. What did I tell you about trouble?” He spoke to her gently, trying to keep her attention on him as he used his knives to pry open the manacles. The left one popped open and he went to work on the other.
“I know. I just keep making that profit margin of yours smaller and smaller.”
“If this keeps up, I might have to keep you for a while until you work off some of your debt.”
The restraint snapped off and she collapsed against him. He caught her with one arm, hugging her tight to him, his rage burning anew at her weakness and injury.
